


Ammunition On My Back

by gaialux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Pre-Femslash, Slow Build, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bela screws over a nest of vampires she finds herself at the Roadhouse. The vampires, never being particularly good at letting bygones be bygones, follow her. Jo always said she wanted to hunt and find adventure. Bela might just be the key to letting that happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ammunition On My Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ishie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishie/gifts).



> Rated for language and show-level violence. The title is taken from Alanis Morissette's "Right Through You". 
> 
> Thank you, ishie, for giving me a chance to write about the ladies of SPN. They really do need more of a chance to be fleshed out, and I hope I delivered.

She's been sitting at the bar since late afternoon, and the sun's setting now. Asking Jo to fill up her glass, wordlessly, with more and more whiskey until she's swaying on her stool and Jo takes to adding extra ice just to balance it all out. Her name might be Bela, at least that's what two guys say. They sit in the corner, hunched over manilla folders that explode with uneven newspaper cut outs. Jo cleans the table nearby and catches snippets of their conversation.

"...her."  
  
"...fucked...over. Idiot..."  
  
"Nobody...would say that." The guy with a baseball cap shoved over his eyes thrusts his head in the direction of the woman. His voice rises. "Bela's a fucking crazy bitch."  
  
Jo's half-tempted to ask them what happened. She's never seen Bela before and seriously doubts that a woman with such an immaculate wardrobe would be a hunter. But she knows asking would be a dumb move on her part. Hunters only talk because they want to, not because someone asks, so Jo keeps going and cleaning alcohol-sprinkled tables as the sun sets and people begin to trudge out.  
  
Her mom was supposed to be here to help with the evening rush, but there's some kind of ghost issue in Crawford and Ellen's sent up some research. Jo thinks her mom must have taken up hunting, but Ellen always shuts that conversation down before it can even begin.  
  
"We're closing up," Jo says when the last of the guys stumble through the door. She swipes her dirty rag over the glistening bar that reeks of just about every type of alcohol possible. Hunters have no money, so how the hell are they so blasé about spilling all their booze?  
  
The woman — Bela? — looks up from her half-finished glass that, by now, is more ice sludge than decent whiskey. Her eyes flash to the clock behind the bar.  
  
"Sorry," she says. "I didn't realise it was so late."  
  
Her voice doesn't slur. Maybe she  _is_ a hunter. She has an accent, could be new here.  
  
Jo shrugs as she begins to pick up the discarded glasses and beer mugs. "It's fine. There's a b and b about a quarter mile away, just follow the road down. Your car will be fine here for the night."  
  
She swears there's a quirk of a smirk on Bela's lips. "Surrounded by hunters? I'll take my chances driving."  
  
 _So she knows about hunters_. "Yours the Mercedes?" Jo asks. She did find seeing that strikingly odd when placed against the more beat-up trucks and muscle cars that usually littered their front lawn.  
  
Bela nods and stands, unsteady on her feet for a moment before she grips the bar with one hand and grabs her bag with the other. Jo watches her blink twice. Clear speech or no, that woman can't drive without wrapping her swanky car around the nearest tree.  
  
"We have some rooms out back," Jo says.  
  
She doesn't even pretend not to notice as Bela wrinkles her nose. "I'm fine, really."  
  
"No, you're not." Jo drops the rag. "And I'm really not interested in having the cops here when your ass ends up in a crash."  
  
"Hunter," Bela says. Jo isn't sure if she's supposed to hear. Bela takes a few steps backward before getting back up on the stool. Even drunk, she does manage some elegance in the action. Jo's quite impressed.  
  
"So you want the room?"  
  
No answer. Jo reaches under the bar to find a shoebox filled with items they're yet to find placement for; souvenirs from hunters, small discarded weapons, trash everybody's too lazy to get rid of, and three keys for the remaining rooms. She chooses the furthest from Ash's and slides it to Bela.  
  
"Just keep walking down the hall and you'll find it." Jo points past the pool table. Bela doesn't turn to look. "The light may or may not work. Wake up's at eight, I'll come pounding on your door if you're not out."  
  
"Charming." Bela slides her manicured finger through the key-ring. "Is breakfast an extra charge?"  
  
"We have a free, all you can eat buffet of lemons and peanuts. I'll even bring you room service."  
  
Picking up her discarded drink, Bela throws back what's left. She grimaces. "Eight it is then."  
  
"I hope you don't mind me asking," Jo says as Bela goes to turn. She bites back at the words but it's too late. "You're not a hunter, are you?"  
  
Bela turns back to her. "Not exactly but I'm not a...civilian. I do know what you all do."  
  
 _I'm not a hunter, either_ , Jo wants to say, but she quashes down that thought. "How did you find us? This place, I mean."  
  
Bela shrugs. "It was on my way."  
  
 _Where?_ But Jo knows she has to stop asking, if Bela knows about the monsters out there then she won't talk. Hunter or no hunter. Everybody's pretty much that same in that respect.  
  
And that's the end of that. Bela leaves to go to her room, her steps seem more stable and Jo does question if she might have actually been okay to drive. Safer here, though, regardless. Jo doesn't even need the  _chance_  of cops. Not when a simple search will show them random pentagrams and files of missing persons over ten years. She knows that anybody who came in here would think it's a hideout for sociopathic devil worshippers.  
  
She'd been called worse in school.  
  
Jo finishes cleaning up, finding peanut shells scattered under tables and beer mugs sitting on ledges. This really is a job for two people, but she knows there's no point complaining. Her mom would just call her spoilt. So Jo does try to do it without complaint, especially after her last stint with the Winchesters. She can hunt one day. Soon.  
  
That's when she hears footfalls. Soft, but they land on a loose piece of flooring and cause the board to squeak. Jo doesn't freeze and she doesn't turn. Instead she keeps going, feeling her pulse pick up and seeing her hands begin to shake. She clenches the mugs she's holding and walks over to the bar, keeping her back to whoever's there. It could be stupid, they could kill her, but if she turns with no weapon...  
  
There's three guns behind the bar. Bottles of holy water, talismans, knives; everything. A better arsenal than the Winchester's trunk, despite what they might think. Nobody's killed her yet, so Jo takes the chance. She kneels down by the sink, puts the mugs on a shelf there, and clasps her hands around a handgun. She spins around, gun pointed in the direction she just knows they'll be.  
  
Sure enough. One man. Less than ten feet away from her, arms crossed over his chest and unmoving. She lowers the gun, slightly. Just enough to meet him eye to eye.  
  
"Who are you?" she asks. He's not any hunter she recognises, not even a passer-by who's stopped in for a drink. She might not remember everyone, but this guy sticks out nowhere in her mind.  
  
"I'm not going to hurt you—"  
  
"Who are you?" Jo demands, raising the gun again. She aims it between his head, will shoot if she needs to. It has silver bullets, at least she's pretty sure. The .45 colt. Either way — human or supernatural monster — it'll be in for a world of pain if she fires.  
  
The man takes one step forward and she cocks the gun. Anything that doesn't identify itself with a gun pointed square to the forehead has something to hide.  
  
"Last fucking chance," Jo says.  
  
"Oh, fine."  
  
The man comes to a halt again and slowly opens its mouth. A second layer of teeth slide through. It's a vampire. She knows it's a vampire. Every hunter said they were extinct and she'd never seen one before, but her dad had pictures and she knew what they looked like.  
  
Jo clenches the gun tighter and backs up. Dead man's blood, a machete. They're down there somewhere.  
  
"I'm still not going to hurt you. I'm just here to find Bela Talbot."  
  
So she was right. "I have no idea who you're talking about."  
  
Jo's against the shelves now, feeling with her foot for the glass jar or a blade. Jo's foot rattles a jar and she stops. Nothing about the vampire changes.  
  
"I'm sure that's her car outside," the vampire says. "If you won't tell me...Well, one less hunter in a world won't hurt anybody, will it?"  
  
"You might be surprised," Jo says. "Hunters love to drink here."  
  
"Plenty of other waterholes around," the vampire says. He takes another step forward, almost at the bar now. "Last chance. Tell me where Bela is, and I'll be happy to leave."  
  
She needs to lean down, grab the jar, pull out the syringe that should be filled inside. The process runs through Jo's mind. Only one wrong move, though, and she's completely screwed. No backup. Why the fuck hasn't Ash woken up to this?  
  
"Why do you want her?" Jo asks. Stalling, deliberately stalling. She'll be utterly shocked if the vampire doesn't see straight through it.  
  
"Could you please tell me where she is?" Its voice is so patronising as it comes closer, steps slow. "I will find her."  
  
Jo knows her eyes go toward the door leading out to the rooms and she can't stop herself. It's only for a split-second, a single flash, but of course the vampire catches her look. It stops, smile breaking out over its lips.  
  
"Thank you, little hunter girl."  
  
It turns on its heel and starts toward the door. Jo takes her chance, heartbeat thrumming so loud she can hear and she swears, amongst the constant streaming thoughts of  _oh shit, oh shit, oh shit_ , that she will turn around and the vampire will be right behind her, ready to draw blood.  
  
She drops the gun. It clatters to the floor as her shaking hands rifle through the useless things until she finds the jar filled with blood. The syringe sticks out, and  _how s_ omeone hasn't knocked it over yet she'll never know, but she grasps it, stands up, and swirls back around.  
  
There's no more hesitation. No further thought process besides going straight at that vampire and plunging the syringe into its chest when it turns and looks at Jo, sadistic smile still pulling over its face. It's only after the plunger is pushed that it seems to react. Eyes widening and hands suddenly swiping out. Jo doesn't know how she manages to duck her way out of it, only that she does. Back being thrown against a wall by her own weight and she watches as the vampire's arms stop moving so sporadically and it begins to crumple to the ground.  
  
 _It's not dead_ , she needs to remind herself.  _Just stunned, just paralysed_. Jo stays frozen to the wall even after the vampire has finished slumping into a heap.  
  
"Jo."  
  
The voice she hears is more of a gasp and Jo's gaze flies to the door. Bela's standing there, eyes wide and hand gripping the frame.  _How do you know my name?_  
  
"Don't," Jo says with a quick shake of her head. "It's a..."  
  
She isn't sure where to go from there. Bela did know there were hunters here, but...vampires? They're supposed to be extinct. Her dad always said he'd only ever seen one.  
  
"A vampire," Bela says. Her voice is low and solid now. "Yes, I know."  
  
There's a whole lot more to this woman, Jo thinks she's getting that now.  
  
The vampire stirs. A grumbling sound comes from the back of its throat and fills the bar. Jo almost jumps, fingers clenching into the wall, but Bela stays stoic. Maybe she is a hunter. One a whole lot more experienced than Jo who's mom never let her go out. That's sure kept her safe.  
  
"I need to—" Jo says, trying to free her tongue from where it's firmly stuck to the roof of her mouth. "The head, you have to..."  
  
Bela gives a stiff nod and Jo propels herself from the wall and back to the bar, hands still shaking as she pushes through everything to find that machete she  _knows_ has to be there. Another deep sound from the vampire and she jumps. There's nothing there. No blade apart from a few sharp knives they use to cut up the lemons. Someone's taken it. How is there no machete here?  
  
Jo turns back to Bela. "We have to go. Now."  
  
Bela nods again and Jo's not expecting more. She steps over the vampire and goes to Ash's door, pounding with the side of her fist. "Ash!" Of course there's no answer. "Ash!"  
  
The vampire makes another sound and Jo's heartbeat comes even faster. She knows they hunt in packs — covens, nests, whatever — and this place isn't safe now. Scent. They pick up on scent. She remembers that small snippet from her dad's research, written in tiny, jolted letters at the corner of a page.  
  
"Ash!" she tries again, slams her open palm onto the door. The guy can sleep through anything, she knows, but he's never not come when he's needed. "Ash, open the fuck up!"  
  
Jo takes a few steps back from the door. She'll have to kick it open, only these doors aren't  _made_ for kicking open. They're made to withstand every evil that goes bump in the night. Still, she raises her foot and kicks.  
  
It doesn't nothing.  
  
She kicks again. Again. Until her leg is aching and she hears the snap of wood. Why they don't have a spare key she'll never know. Jo kicks again and there are footsteps behind her. She freezes, blood turning cold and no weapon in hand. The vampire has woken up already.  
  
Only the voice that comes from behind her is definitely more familiar than a vampires. "Could you pick the lock?"  
  
Jo turns back and sees Bela through strands of hair sticking to her face with sweat. She pushes them back from her face and shakes her head. They stick again. "No. Uh, too intricate. Need to keep things out..." And, now that she thinks about it, Jo realises that's a pretty stupid thing to do when demons can throw down doors with the right thought-process and ghosts don't need to bother with barricades.  
  
"On three," Bela says and gives Jo a steady look. Well, it's as good an option as any. "One...two...three."  
  
They both kick at the door this time and it swings open, crashing against the inside wall. Jo goes for the light switch, flicks it up, and blinks back against the assault of bright white that filters into the room. It's mostly computer parts strewn around, clothes lying on the floor, and discarded beer cans on every inch of the available surfaces. Jo rushes to his bed and throws back the sheets to find...nothing. No Ash.  
  
Jo drops the blankets. Wherever the hell Ash is, Jo just hopes he's okay because they can't stick around here. She goes back to Bela, grasps her wrist, and tugs her down the corridor. There's nothing to say that the vampires won't be there, but Jo's taking the chance and she's dragging Bela along with her. Because vampires don't show up at the Roadhouse. Hunters know how to cover their tracks.  
  
"Where are we go—?"  
  
"Shh!" Jo drops Bela's wrist and covers her mouth instead. Vampires already have all the advantages, they don't need a signal to say come and suck my blood. "Shut up, okay?"  
  
Bela says nothing else and lets Jo grab her wrist again and tug her to the back door where she stands on tip-toes to get the key from atop the frame. The one key that's always in the right place. While she unlocks the door, she strains her ears to hear something letting her know the other vampires have found their way here. She hears nothing apart from Bela's breathing. The door clicks open and they slowly walk out into the night.  
  
"You got your keys?" Jo asks — whispers. They can't outrun these guys, and she at least needs time to  _think_ about what they have to do next. She hasn't seen another vampire yet, there might be none. It could be one newly turned, left by it's sire. Yeah, that's possible. Or so she'll keep telling herself as they move across the ground, footsteps sounding magnified, and Jo just waiting for a twig to snap or somebody to jump out and grab them.  
  
Nobody does.  
  
"Bela,  _please_."  
  
There's a rustle of material before the soft sounds of keys jingling fills Jo's ears. She goes to grab them, but Bela has surprisingly fast reflexes for an intoxicated person. An intoxicated person who should be  _terrified_ about what she just witnessed. Even if she does know that vampires exist.  
  
"You can't drive," Jo says, going for tact instead. "Seriously. Hand me the keys."  
  
"I  _can_ —"  
  
There's a snap of a twig and the cool metal of keys is suddenly thrust into Jo's palm. That's all she needs. Gripping Bela's wrist tighter, they sprint toward the car. For once Jo is grateful that a roadhouse patron chose to ignore the designated parking area. Ripping open the doors they tumble in, and there's no preamble before Jo brings the engine roaring to life.

 

* * *

 

When they're on the highway, Jo lets herself breathe again. She also turns to Bela.  "Tell me everything," Jo says.  
  
"Tell you what?" Bela glances at her sharply before looking back ahead at the road. She's finally showing some emotion: chest heaving and a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.  
  
"Why there's a fucking vampire in my roadhouse!" The car swerves and Jo gains control again, picking up speed and weaving in between the minimal traffic. She doesn't even know where they're going yet, but they need to get away until she can figure that out — and find out where the fuck Ash is.  
  
"How would I know that?" Bela asks. Her mouth is pulled tight and the rest of her is a perfect poker face. But Jo's played a lot of poker in her life, hustled more, and won almost every single time. Bela's lying.  
  
"You know about vampires, about hunters. Either you're one of  _us_ or one of  _them_."  
  
Bela bites down on her lip. "I procure unique items for a select clientèle."  
  
"What the hell is that that supposed to mean?" Jo turns off the highway. They need to get away, to find weapons. At least then she can go back and maybe have a chance against however many vampires will be at her home. She can't even remember how long dead man's blood works for.  
  
No answer.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Bela Talbot." She sounds calm.  
  
Jo keeps pressing. "And how do you know me?"  
  
"The Winchesters have never done well at keeping their friends secret — or safe."  
  
"You know the Winchesters?"  
  
"Everybody in this business does."  
  
That's it. Jo brings the car to a slamming halt on a road that's slowly becoming dirt. They lost the town at least, hopefully the vampires with it. Unless Bela has something to do with them, which Jo is fast guessing may indeed be the case.  
  
"What business?" Jo asks — demands.  
  
"I already told you." Bela is still calm and the trickle of sweat from her forehead has completely disappeared. Pressed and neat again. Her eyes don't even have the foggy look of someone who is drunk. "I take, I sell. The Winchesters happen to fall into the former category."  
  
The least Sam and Dean could have done is warn her.  
  
"Explain the vampire."  
  
A quirk of Bela's mouth. "He also fell into the former. Vampires are collectors, if you didn't know that already. They have centuries to do so."  
  
At least she's talking, but that doesn't change anything right now. Jo takes a glance at the rear-view mirror. Nothing there but endless darkness and a few street lights further back toward the highway. Now that she has a chance to think, Jo knows there's actually only one thing left to do, but first thing's first.  
  
"Do you have a phone?" Jo asks.  
  
"Yes." She makes no movement.  
  
"Can I use it?" So Jo kind of hates this woman for making her so edgy. When Bela actually gives her the phone, she snatches it and quickly dials Ash's number. Should have been action number one, but Jo's never been particularly good under pressure.  
  
It rings twice before she hears a familiar voice. "Yeah?" Gruff and drunk-laden. The perfect Ash.  
  
"Ash," she says, trying not to sound too relieved. She's still pissed, but at least he's okay. "It's Jo. Where are you?"  
  
"Uh." A pause. "Good question. Think I'm in Massachusetts. Could be Vegas."  
  
How he got the two confused, Jo hasn't got the faintest idea. "But you're okay?"  
  
"Yeah, 'm fine. And you?"  
  
All things considered. For a moment she thinks that telling Ash everything might be a good idea, but then he'd just spill to her mom and Jo doesn't need that. She can do this, whatever's needed. Like buying two machetes and decapitating any vampires who have their way to her home. See, she has a plan now. A pretty basic one at that.  
  
"Yeah, everything's great." Jo swallows hard. "I'll see you when you get back." Hanging up, she turns to Bela. "So you fucked over some vampires?"  
  
"I made a  _mistake_ —"

"—and you led them here," Jo finishes, She's actually not all that angry anymore. Annoyed, sure. But anger? That's starting to dissipate. "Doesn't matter. Can you fight?"  
  
Bela's mouth opens and closes a few times before she answers. "I can defend myself."  
  
"That'll do."

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later there's two machetes in the backseat and Jo's re-stocked with dead man's blood. It never hurts to know where hunters are every fifty or so miles. Driving back along the highway, Jo's keeping her side-vision on Bela. Making sure she's not too drunk or trying to screw Jo over. There's always that chance, especially after she found a pay-phone, dialled Dean's number and attempted subtle question asking in regards to Bela's character.  
  
"Bela?" Dean had yelled over the phone. "What the hell are you doing with Bela?"  
  
"Nothing," Jo had replied, keeping one eye on the woman in question who was seated in the car. She hadn't tried to drive away. "She just stopped by the Roadhouse."  
  
"Well, send her  _away_ from the Roadhouse." She'd heard a muffled sound in the background, then Dean's further away voice saying, "Yeah. With Jo."  
  
"Put Sam on." She had thought maybe he would actually answer her questions.  
  
Dean was defiant. "No. Get rid of Bela. All she'll do is rob you blind."  
  
So far that hadn't happened. "Is she dangerous?"  
  
" _Dangerous?_ " The way he'd said it make it seem as though the word had come out of nowhere. At that point Jo was staring at Bela, trying to find the answers herself because Dean was no help. "She's not a hunter. Alright shot, though. Don't let her get her hands on a gun."  
  
"I won't."  
  
The conversation had dwindled when Dean went back to yelling about how Bela should be sent away, and Jo had made her way back to the car. Now they're here and she doesn't think Bela comes across as dangerous. Jo won't let her guard down — learnt that the hard way too many times — but she figures Bela might be willing to help. At least to kill some vampires. Who wouldn't' want to be a part of that?  
  
"Do you know how to kill them?" Jo asks, partly to break the silence and partly because that's probably a good thing to know before they run in this.  
  
"Decapitation." Bela nods. "Yes, I know."  
  
After this, Jo will go out, buy whatever high-brow alcohol Bela wants, and insist she tell Jo everything about her life. Then she'll send her away and nobody will be hurt in the process. Or stolen from.  
  
"And the dead man's blood—"  
  
"—will render them paralysed for a period of time." Bela turns to her then. "How do you know the vampires will still be there?"  
  
"I don't," Jo admits, "But they're smart and they follow scent. That's my home and I'm sure they know someone will be back."  
  
Bela grows quiet and Jo speeds up.

 

* * *

 

There's Four.  
  
Four that Jo can  _see_.  
  
Three males, one female. Caught under the pale light of the moon and standing on the front lawn. She doesn't see the first vampire she took down, so he's probably still inside. Five vampires. Five vampires against one pseudo-hunter and one thief. The odds are totally not on Jo's side. She stops the car a distance away and prays they don't pick up on it. Chances are they already have. Jo swallows, hard.  
  
"I believe we need a plan," Bela says from beside her.  
  
 _You think?_ "Yeah," Jo says. "Wouldn't be a bad idea."  
  
Logic tends to go out the window when it's a life-or-death scenario, and the only options Jo sees at first involve either turning the car in the opposite direction or running at the first vampire she sees, separating its head from its body, and just doing that for all five. The loss of logic is also the most common death of a hunter. Jo squeezes her eyes closed and tries to think without seeing them.  
  
"What if we had cross-bow?"  
  
Jo cracks one eyelid open. "Hmm?"  
  
"If you coat the bolts with the blood, we could get a number of them from a distance."  
  
She smiles at Bela. "That's a really good idea." The smile falters. "Literally everything is in the Roadhouse. All our weapons."  
  
Which, now that Jo thinks about it, doesn't seem so smart when situations like  _this_ happen.  
  
"Pop my trunk."  
  
"You can't go out there," Jo says. Not unless she wants to get killed. They might be a distance from the vampires, but based on the way the trees are blowing, Bela's scent will go straight to them.  
  
"We can't stay in here." Bela leans across and opens the trunk herself, getting out of the car before Jo has the chance to protest again. Jo goes after her.  
  
"Do you want to die?" she whispers harshly.  
  
"I have no intention of dying." A beat. "Not just yet, anyway."  
  
Bela lifts open the trunk. Jo sees that it has a false bottom. Bela pulls that up, too, revealing a fully stocked arsenal that rivals the whole of the Roadhouse's weaponry.  
  
"Wow," is all Jo can think to say, momentarily forgetting that there's an army of vampires less than half a mile away.  
  
In her hands, Bela pulls out a cross-bow that's mounted to the roof. "So do you think it will work?"  
  
"Maybe." Seems like the best idea they've had so far. It'll let them have distance and speed. "How many bolts?"  
  
"More than enough."  
  
"You a sharp shooter?" Jo remembers Dean's words. He just never thought they'd come in handy.  
  
"The sharpest." With that, Bela slings the cross-bow over her shoulder. "But I'll have to get a lot closer."  
  
"They're fast."  
  
"You have a machete." Bela closes the trunk, weapons once again hidden from view and car looking ritzy as hell. "I'm sure you don't mind being backup."  
  
Jo chews on the inside of her cheek for a moment, looking in the general direction of the Roadhouse. They haven't come yet. Maybe they're dumb and without all the super senses she's heard about in others. Her dad's journal has shown to have mistakes, after all, minor ones that Bobby or her mom have picked up on over the years. This could be the same.  
  
"Alright," she says eventually. "There's a hill, a few feet back from where we came. Not sure about the trees, though."  
  
They check it out anyway, trying to keep footsteps silent on the drying foliage. Jo doesn't think there's any point in bothering; if the smell of their blood didn't call the vampires over, a few stray footsteps definitely won't. Still. She knows that taking too many chances isn't smart.  
  
The trees prove no issue. Not to Bela who somehow manages a clear line from crossbow to vampires and shows Jo her line of sight with a smile.  
  
"You hunters have an unhealthy obsession with blood," she says as Jo looks. Sure enough these bolts are going to hit with only slightest movement to centre on one of the four.  
  
"And you don't?" Jo asks.  
  
"My unhealthy obsession, so to speak, lies with money."  
  
Jo hands the crossbow back and watches as Bela takes it back into her grip. She holds it back up, effortless, and Jo is the slightest bit jealous that somehow who doesn't even hunt for a living is prepared to take down an entire vampire nest. Well, at least she thinks it's jealousy.  
  
"People kill for money," Jo notes, offhand.  
  
Bela doesn't even flinch. "Evil for a greater good."  
  
"How—"  
  
Jo's words are cut off with Bela firing a bolt. She whips her head around, not fast enough, but when she squints there's enough light coming from the Roadhouse to let her see the vampires react. All but one of them standing stock still, staring in the reaction of her and Bela. The one not staring is on the ground.  
  
Bela re-loads, fires another bolt that hits one of the females. She stumbles, falls, and the remaining two take off running.  
  
"Machete," Bela murmurs. She's still holding the crossbow steady and only a single flicker of her gaze hits Jo before it's back to being solid and straight ahead.  
  
Nodding, Jo clenches her hand tighter around the handle. Two of them to take down. Maximum. She can do it. She's taken down a handful of demons, played bait to a ghost. This is nothing. Or so she'll keep telling herself so he hand doesn't shake and she can concentrate. What's taking them so long?  
  
Another bolt and it's followed by the sound of a feral growl and a slump not all that far away. Close enough that Jo should be able to see the vampires by now, but whipping her head around and keeping her eyes constantly darting shows up nothing. They're  _hiding_ , Jo realises with a start. Not coming to attack with all teeth bared like she suspected would happen. It's worse. She can't see them.  
  
"Hey!" Jo calls. From the corner of her gaze Bela's eyes grow wide. "Hey, you want a piece of me?"  
  
"What are you doing?" Bela asks. Her voice is at a harsh whisper.  
  
"If we get them here," Jo says, her voice at a usual octave. "Then we just kill them off in one go."  
  
Better than waiting for a surprise attack and being killed on the spot. Jo might not be a good fighter — she might not be a fighter at all, actually — but she refuses to just lay down and die. Bela brought these son's of bitches here, and they're not leaving. They're also not staying.  
  
Jo grins at Bela and then calls out into the darkness, "So come on!"  
  
No matter what other hunters might say in her dad's journal, vampires aren't smart. Or at least the young ones aren't. This vampire looks younger than Jo and practically  _jumps_ from where it's hiding behind a clump of trees. The light from Bela's car's headlights make it's face just visible and Jo steps forward — doesn't think — and slices it's head from it's neck in one swift movement.  
  
Her arms are going to ache tomorrow.  
  
"Shit," Bela says softly before the  _whiz_ of another bolt being fired is set off. The vampire it hits is less than ten feet away and falls forward to leave its head almost brushing Jo's toes.  
  
Jo's ready to permanently separate this one's head from its body, but the sudden footsteps behind her aren't Bela's. Jo turns and sees the too-bright, flashing eyes.  
  
"Duck!"  
  
Instincts kick in. Jo hits the ground as a bolt connects itself right in the centre of the vampire's forehead. It manages a few more steps toward her, with Jo scrambling back and shoving herself up against the rough trunk of a tree, before it slumps over.  
  
She stumbles to her feet and gapes at Bela. "Are there any more?"  
  
Bela looks around. Jo sees her eyes darting, her chest heaving, and the vampire on the ground twitches one of its arms. For a few, long moments it's pure silence. Until Jo gets to her feet, raises the machete above her head, and swiftly cuts through the vampire's neck.  
  
"No," Bela says with finality. Her eyes lock on Jo's once she looks up again. "Just the ones back at the Roadhouse."  
  
She's splattered in blood, Jo knows that. Can feel it growing tacky on her hands and clothes. There's the one vampire still stuck in the Roadhouse, OD'd on dead man's blood. But there's more bodies here, corpses. The smell of their blood growing stronger, putrid, and Jo's still looking at Bela for reasons she doesn't even  _get_.  
  
"Well my buyer will be happy," Bela says, voice cutting through everything. She's speckled with the same blood, her previously white shirt taking on a new design.  
  
"What did you take?" Jo finds herself asking, even though questions aren't allowed. But Bela's not a hunter.  
  
Bela smiles and shakes her head. Her hair flies around her face, finally pulled free from where it was meticulously placed in a ponytail earlier today. Or yesterday. It must be almost morning by now.  
  
"A sword," Bela says. "A stake, actually. Linked back to the 15th century."  
  
Jo has to struggle not to laugh. Hysterical laughter is already bubbling in her throat and it's so damn  _crazy_ to be standing here, splattered in blood, when her mom always refused to let her go anywhere because it was dangerous. Yeah. Danger. One poltergeist as opposed to five vampires. Her mom had no idea.  
  
"You risked your life for a  _stake_?"  
  
Bela's mouth twitches. "I told you my obsession was money. I let you indulge in yours, and it was fun, wasn't it?"  
  
At her feet there are two dead bodies. Back at the Roadhouse there's more waiting to be ended for good.  _Fun_ is never a word that would come to mind regarding all of this, but now Bela's said it and managed to keep it twisting in Jo's mind.  
  
"What are you going to do now?" Jo asks instead of answering Bela's question. They shouldn't even be having this conversation with the other vampires, but if the first is still paralysed it's obviously lasting awhile. Jo still keeps one eye darting. Can't ever be too careful.  
  
"Go back to my apartment in Queens I suppose," Bela says. She toes one of the vampire's legs. "I'll help you with these bodies first of course."  
  
"Yeah," Jo says. She finds herself nodding tight. "Thanks."

 

* * *

 

Later that night —  _day,_  actually, sunlight is peeking through the curtains — Jo lays in her bed, stares at the ceiling, and realises she has actually done something. Not played bait or waited in the sidelines. No, she had  _actually_ played a role here. With that in mind she can't sleep. It keeps rolling around and she's left wondering why she's still at a bar. Why can't she be out there, finishing what her dad started?  
  
He'd started to teach her about hunting. Or tried to at least. Her mom had put an end to that early on, but he still told her about it. How he and other hunters had to protect people. Then, after he died, she listened to the other hunters come in and out of the Roadhouse. Heard their stories.  
  
Jo gets out of bed then, taking slow steps along the cold floorboards. It's only once she's standing outside Bela's room that she realises where she's ended up. The why is still hazy.  
  
She knocks before that why comes into any sort of clarity and calls out a soft "Bela". She's probably sleeping — hell, there's no  _probably_ about it — but a response comes through the door, "Yes?"  
  
"It's Jo. Can I come in?"  
  
A slight pause. Jo can hear movement on the other side of the door, then sees a twist if the doorknob. "Sure."  
  
Jo waits for the door to swing partially open before she lets herself push it further and step inside. Bela is back on the bed, one leg crossed over the other at the knee and not really looking at Jo, but not looking away either. Jo moves closer.  
  
"I thought checkout wasn't until eight," Bela says. Jo thinks it's supposed to be light, but the way she says it is way too monotone to qualify.  
  
"I can go—"  
  
Bela shakes her head, cutting Jo off. "You can stay. It's fine."  
  
The silence that starts between them soon shifts from long to uncomfortable. Jo fights to catch Bela's eye but Bela keeps dipping her head and focusing on the floor. Eventually Jo gives up and chooses instead to walk over there, sitting toward the end of the bed and feeling it dip drastically under her weight. A new mattress might be in order. So not the time to be thinking about it.  
  
"Are you okay?" Jo asks. She's sure it's a stupid question that moment it hits the air.  
  
Across Bela's lips breaks the smallest of smiles. "This isn't my first time playing hunter."  
  
Playing hunter. That's basically all Jo's been trying to do her entire life.  _Trying_ to play hunter at that, actually. All the times she had an opportunity somebody else had to bail her out of it. But not this time, not really; Bela and her had worked  _together_  to kill those vampires.  
  
"Are you still going back home?" Jo says.  
  
"I suppose so. Wait until I have a new buyer or information on another artefact." Bela looks up and finally lets her and Jo's eyes meet. "What about you?"  
  
"What about me?" Sleep deprivation is doing nothing good for Jo's ability to react — or think in general.  
  
Bela seems to have patience, though. "Are you going to stay here? Or are you going to join all those other hunters on a path of vengeance?"  
  
"Haven't decided yet."  
  
That's the truth. Staying here — continuing to hold down a bar — just seems so trivial in the scheme of everything else she could be a part of. Jo brings a hand to her mouth and nibbles on the thumb of her nail. It's difficult to consider such things prior to dawn when she's functioning on next to no sleep.  
  
"I could go with you." She's saying the words before it actually clicks. Then her mouth keeps running. "Yeah. I mean it's not like your job is without hazards."  
  
In the smallest tendrils of light filtering through the ratty curtains, Jo can make out Bela's smile. This one looks real. "Well, you're not wrong."  
  
"Let me, then. Just for a while."  
  
Just long enough for her to find something, something else that makes her feel as though she's making a difference. That she's not forgetting everything her dad went through.  
  
"I'm not a hunter," Bela says.  
  
"So?" Jo's feeling more awake now.  _Alive_. "Look, what we did. You can't expect me to just stick it out here."  
  
Bela doesn't respond. Through the window there's a flash of yellow and Jo tenses, logically knowing it's only a car headlight but mentally picturing more vampires, more ghouls, more monsters of any description out there. Bela seems to get that and drops a hand to Jo's thigh, squeezes. It doesn't stop Jo's heartbeat from hammering in her chest or her eyes from darting around, waiting for attack.  
  
"Jo," Bela says gently.  
  
"I've grown up around this," Jo says. Her voice is too hoarse and she can't find it. "Always. I shouldn't—"  
  
"Hey."  
  
Hearing Bela actually seem sympathetic is strange to Jo's ears. Her pressing fingertips to the start of her hairline, trailing through Jo's hair for the briefest of moments, just takes the weirdness up to eleven. When her hand drops away another burst of yellow light strains through the window. This time Jo doesn't jolt into attack mode, but she does wonder why so many cars are coming past at this time of day —  _night_.  
  
"You do what you want to do," Bela says, same sympathetic voice. Though Jo thinks it's more sweet and gentle than blatant sympathy this time around. "My life isn't always this exciting, though."  
  
Jo laughs. Dark and short. "Have you got any idea what it's like to listen to these guys come through the Roadhouse, talk about hunts, and  _not_ be allowed to do anything? It's worse when my mom's here, she won't even let me  _listen_. I can use a gun because she knows what's out there, but I can't hunt. I can't help  _stop_ it."  
  
Bela's hand is back in Jo's hair and there's only vague recognition of such a thing on Jo's part. When she does, it's because Bela shifts closer.  
  
"You can come with me," Bela says.  
  
Jo looks up.  
  
"I won't stop you." Bela's breath is warm against Jo's face. The faintest scent of mint coats the musty smell of the room. "But hunters are going to hate you."  
  
Jo shrugs. "So?"  
  
She's been around hunters her whole life, and always thought that would be her future. Even after her dad's death it was all she wanted to do; help people,  _save_ people. Hadn't she and Bela done just that?  
  
"Those vampires could have gone anywhere," Jo continues. "Killed anyone. If hunters hate you for  _that_ —"  
  
It would be a lie if Jo said she didn't see it coming, but when Bela closes the small distance left between the two of them and presses their lips together, she is still startled enough to jolt back and almost fall off the bed.

"Sorry," Bela says, though she doesn't sound sorry. "I thought..."  
  
"No." Jo raises a hand and ghosts fingertips over her own lips. She shakes her had quickly. "No, I mean  _yes_ —"  
  
Bela manages to cut her off with a smile and Jo swallows thickly, scooting further back up on the bed. Close enough that the dull lighting from outside highlights the coating of lipstick Bela has still managed to keep on throughout everything.   
  
"What are you thinking?"  
  
Jo doesn't actually know. Mostly it's snippets of memories about those vampires. About doing something. About being more than someone who hands out drinks and cleans up puke from guys who drink themselves stupid nightly but still can't hold their liquor.

"Do you want to come with me?"  
  
"Yeah." There isn't any preamble in that response. One way or another, Jo knows she's going to find a way to hunt. Even if it meant leaving the Roadhouse in the dead of night and cutting all ties from her mom. This way, with Bela, actually seems safer. Smarter.  _Better_.  
  
"Okay." Bela smiles, and this time when she leans forward, Jo doesn't shy back.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry that it's so pre-shippy! The wordcount just kept growing with plot D:


End file.
